


this little light

by forestpenguin



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Canon Compliant, Drabble Collection, F/M, Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-02 02:39:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15787257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forestpenguin/pseuds/forestpenguin
Summary: "What I was afraid of then isn't what scares me now."Two former rebels and a baby. It sounds like the start to a twisted joke.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Reworked [this thing ](https://cassianandorjyn.tumblr.com/post/177043287901/the-window-turns-white-and-kes-holds-his-breath) I posted on Tumblr to make it less depressing.

The window turns white, and Kes holds his breath for the inevitable boom that follows.

Then, silence.

Well, there is the patter of rain on wood and grass and shingles, but no cries for Papa.

Poe is sound asleep.

The thunderstorm reaches Kes' nerves through his sock-clad feet. To tear himself away from the sight of the sleeping cherub costs him half his heart - even for a few minutes - but the other half of his heart is nowhere to be found.

His sock-clad feet are what carry him to the kitchen, to the sitting room, to the front door. 

Kes peers through the rain-dappled bug net.

“Shara?” 

Wooden planks Kes remembers chopping up with old timers are what makes up their porch. They're slick, rain having snuck under the slanted roof with the earlier wind that pushed the storm over their heads. He contemplates slipping on his shoes and gets as far as pulling off his socks before his back begins to buzz angrily at him. 

The socks rest in his shoes, cast in electric white light for a half-second as Kes steps onto the porch.

The wind's dead and gone, now, leaving behind rain falling in heavy sheets perpendicular to Yavin’s sprawling green landscape. They're streaks of light-blue on a dark blue sky, heavy with the burden of thunder and lightning. 

“Shara?”

She turns. Another bright flash - it's really right above them now - illuminates her raven curls. The sight of them tossed so merrily over her shoulder in a way not unlike the clouds above squeezes newfound, ancient, adoration from his veins.

He grins.

“It’s pouring.”

“I know," Shara says, with all the seriousness of her replies whenever Poe states the obvious. "It’s pretty," she adds, and Kes senses she's about to open up. He sits down beside her on the bench-swing, and it rocks gently. "It's just been so  _humid_ \- I feel like I have to appreciate it, somehow. Acknowledge its existence, remember it, cherish it - oh, shavit, is Poe up?”

He shakes his head. “He’s sleeping right through this.” Shara visibly relaxes, and Kes' hand reaches out to find hers in the dark. She flips her palm, intertwining their fingers.

“Running around all day must’ve worn him out,” she grins. She's clearly tired, eyes lined with the thousands of sleepless hours in a cockpit catching up on her. She shifts to lean against his shoulder, reminiscent of the days where they could only share stolen moments on upturned storage crates in Base One's hangar before they parted ways on different missions.

Fulling as it was, Kes cannot lie and say he isn't glad those days are behind them now. 

“Running after him must’ve worn you out too.”

“Yeah.” 

Her lips brush the skin behind his ear, right where she knows him. He’s tempted to return the favour, wonders if the chains holding up the bench could withstand too much movement - but then the sky growls a hint. 

"This is nice," he says after some silence - the rain having slowed to something less deafening and more suitable for soft conversation about, well, he doesn't really know. Something. Something important, something they should say to commemorate this, him and her and the rain and the mud he's going to have to trudge through tomorrow morning to check on the stables, and the dirt tracks Poe's going to leave all over the kitchen floor.

Like Shara said moments prior. Something to _cherish._

Kes winces. He probably ruined the moment with that brusque mouth of his, but Shara knew that when she married him - gods, she said  _yes -_ and she laughs, the bubbling sound competing with the water dribbling out of the roof-pipes into the harvesting containers. 

So it's alright.

They'll be alright. 

Kes squeezes her hand, finding comfort in the hard edge of the wedding ring on her fourth finger. 

"It's so much nicer," she starts, "than those short rainstorms. Y'know, the ones come when they wish and leave after drenching the laundry. Those kriffing suck... but the heavy storms like this. That clean the hard to reach corners and my soul and take out the karking humidity.."

"-they're nice," Kes finishes. She nods, sitting up to look at him. The glint of light spilling from the window looking into the kitchen catches in her eyes, her eyelashes drawing tiny patters over her amber-glowing brown skin.

The need to say something builds in his chest, but with the rain splashing down everywhere he can't really think much more than  _my wife is really pretty,_ as if he was still a schoolboy, or the _flirtatious_ Pathfinder he never really was. Shara had all the guts, in this relationship, to let love fall loosely and freely from her tongue like the summer rains.

She looks him right in the eyes. He could lean in, right now, but he doesn't feel the need to. He wants to, he always does, but he can wait. They have tomorrow. And the next day, and the next.

A sharp, wailing cry breaks his train of thought. 

A long, dark gaze snaps in two, fettered by eyelids. 

"Shavit," Kes mutters. "I thought he was asleep." 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> @dasakuryo requested Shara/Kes and blowing a raspberry against someone’s skin 

 

Poe giggles, bright and loud.

“H-a-a-p-pyyy boy,” Kes grins. He presses his face to Poe’s cheek, leaving a slight kiss in his wake. Poe gurgles contentedly in response. Kes resumes bouncing him on his knees, and Poe kicks his feet up into the air every time his father lifts him off his lap.

His arms ache thoroughly from doing this for the better part of a standard hour, but Poe’s in such a good mood and honestly, is there anything more important in his life than -

Poe throws his hands up in the air and Kes lifts him higher. “Up!”

“Look at you, little man, fly boy-” Poe giggles. “Up, up in the air. One, two-” he bounces, higher and higher, “-three!” Poe yelps, ecstatic as Kes hardly tosses him, and when he falls back into his grip a fraction of a second later, kicks his feet.

“Again?” Kes nods and Poe follows his movement. “Again?” He pecks his cheek and Poe giggles, kicking his feet. Kes kisses him again, “Little fly boy, aren’t you-”

“Hey!”

Poe’s head turns first, regarding his mother with solemn, bright eyes. “No son of mine is gonna be called a flyboy,” Shara interjects, head peeking around the doorway. “ _Kes_.”

Kes pulls his lips down into an exaggerated frown. “Sorry, darling,” he replies, tugging on the  _ar_  for emphasis. He regards Poe who’s now studying him closely. “Papá’s a silly, s-i-iiiiiiiiiill-l-y, man. You’re not a _fly boy_ , are you?”

Poe’s response is to purse his tiny lips and blow the largest raspberry he’s ever mustered.

Kes’ jaw drops and Shara bursts out laughing.

“Yeah I didn’t think he liked that either,” she remarks, grinning.

Kes’ reply is to blow a raspberry in response. It’s Shara’s turn to make a face as Poe blinks at his father, and for a terrible moment Kes thinks he’s going to start wailing but then -

another raspberry.

“Jeez, Shara, he’s louder than your A-wing.”

Shara shrugs, moving off the doorway and finding a seat beside Kes. “He’s  _your_ son, after all.  _All_ noise and no substance. Though I hope he’ll get to the talking part soon enough, and maybe then he’ll be talking circles around you for once.”

“Was that an insult or an innuendo?” Kes frowns.

Shara swats his arm. “Neither, weirdo. Pass him to me,” she juts her chin. Kes obliges, Poe never fussy when it comes to being handed to his mamá. As soon as he settles in her grip, though, he begins to struggle.

“What’s wrong?” Shara presses her nose to his. “Hmm? Papá being silly again?”

Which apparently is Poe-speak for  _blow bubbles please_ , because he purses his lips right against his mother’s cheek and does his best imitation of an Ewok’s wooden trumpet.

“Hey!” Shara jerks away laughing. “Silly you,” she says, and tickles the hem of his shirt. “Who taught you to blow bubbles?”

Poe giggles innocently in response and pointedly looks at his father, who raises his hands in defense.

“I swear, Shar, it wasn’t me.”

Poe makes a sound oddly resembling a disbelieving  _pfft._ “That’s right,” Shara nods. “Silly papá .” Before the child can make his next move, Kes takes control of the situation and presses his mouth to Poe’s stomach and blows a raspberry.

“Kes!”

Poe instinctively kicks Kes in the chin.

“Ow!”

Poe giggles and Shara bites her lips to smother a laugh, but betrays herself by the twinkle of her eyes.

“You deserved that.”

Kes dejectedly rubs his jaw.

“He kicks hard.”

Shara gives him a mockingly pitying frown, shifting to let Poe’s head rest on her shoulder. “Oh boo hoo, I wonder what that feels like.” Kes stares at her until the realization dawns on his face, much to her amusement.

“Alright, alright - but what are we going to do about this bubbles thing?”

“He’ll outgrow it, he has his phases. Anything’s better than crying,” she says, and then Poe fist grasps at the fabric of her shirt. “Oh no.”

“I got it I got it.” Kes leans back, catching Poe’s eye, and blows a raspberry. The child yelps gleefully in response, face scrunching into delight and not upset.

Shara rolls her eyes. “Now _your_ bubbles thing, I have no clue what to do about it.”

“Oh, pfft, don’t be so lame, Shara,” Kes says and then Poe seems to laugh in support. “Yeah, buddy, mamá’s being boring.”

“Am not.”

“Bo-ring.”

Shara lets Poe off her shoulder and settles him in her lap. “Am  _not_.”

“The  _boringest_.”

Frowning, Shara leans over Poe and pecks Kes on the cheek.

“Am not,” she whispers, lips dragging over his skin.

And blows a raspberry.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I leave this with the intent it'll grow into a collection of drabbles about the Damerons?? Or perhaps kid!sequel trio? We'll see how this goes - I'll update whenever I have random inspiration so there is no plot whatsover.


End file.
